


How to Combine Alcohol and Science Experiments (With No Intended Property Damage)

by joanofarcstan



Series: tumblr prompts [2]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: (although that was not said until after posting this prompt), Alcohol, F/M, Fluff, Idiots in Love, and planning probably illegal science experiments, and they are RIGHT, but anyway, finarfin's kids also have very strong reactions to said alcohol, read to the end to find out, silverflutesanddiamonds on tumblr suggested feener invented alcohol, well rather the making of it and unintended consequences
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:47:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24797164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joanofarcstan/pseuds/joanofarcstan
Summary: 43. "Are you drunk?" Fëanor/Nerdanel. Requested on tumblr.
Relationships: Fëanor | Curufinwë/Nerdanel
Series: tumblr prompts [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1789078
Comments: 6
Kudos: 34
Collections: Dialogue Prompts





	How to Combine Alcohol and Science Experiments (With No Intended Property Damage)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theoreticlove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theoreticlove/gifts).



"Y'know… you've got nice hair. Shiny. Pretty. An' eyes. Trees c'n go fuck 'emselves. You glow better."

Nerdanel looked over to her husband, raising her eyebrows in fond exasperation. "Are you drunk, Fëanáro dear?"

Dear Fëanáro had the nerve to look offended. "Me? Drunk? Where'd… where'd tha' come from?" He waved his arms in a wild gesture that was definitely the mark of a man under the influence, if not totally drunk off his ass, as Nerdanel suspected.

"For one, you have a large quantity of empty liquor containers around you," she pointed out. It was true; various… erm… makeshift bottles sat on the table. None of them looked like wine, or anything recognizable as liquor except for the smell. "For a second, you are slurring your words. For a third, your mental function appears to be inhibited. Need I go on? —And _no,_ you will not drink more!" She snatched another… bottle from him and downed the contents herself. (There wasn't much anyway.) When she finished and put it on a high shelf (safely out of Fëanáro's reach), he was staring at her.

"What?"

"Wow." He squinted and searched for words, a definite sign of intoxication. Her Fëanáro was never at a loss for words. "…Pow'r move."

Nerdanel was fairly certain she hadn't heard that one before. "What?"

Fëanáro waved his arms again. If this was his way of trying to persuade her that he was sober, he wasn't doing a very good job of it. Then again, he never did a very good job of anything except being adorably silly when he was drunk. "Kids. What they say nowadays. Pow'r move. Heard Am… Amrod… say 't earlier."

Hm. Maybe it had been Amras; Valar knew they looked similar enough. Fëanáro, in his… tipsy state, would not have had the best of odds.

He continued, clearly still blurry in his head. "'S like… y'know… asserting dominance. Wow. I like that. 'S cool."

Oh dear, he was getting off track now. "Fëanáro, where did you get this? I don't recall ever seeing alcohol sold in a box or—" she blinked "—this strong!"

He had the grace then to at least look guilty. "Er…"

" _Fëanáro._ "

He made an attempt at an awkward, nervous grin that warmed her heart, although she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing. "I… made it."

It was a good thing Nerdanel wasn't holding that box-bottle contraption anymore. She had no desire to find out how many pieces it would shatter into, or how many injuries it would cause, or how sticky the liquor would be. (It had seemed rather more sticky than was proper when she tasted it.) "You _made_ it."

“Er. Yes. I set up a distillery and—yes.” He shut his mouth hastily, showing a precognitive judgment that she rarely, if ever, expected from him, since all his brainpower clearly went to intelligence and not wisdom.

Nerdanel studied him. He squirmed. Oh, this was a surprising amount of fun. (She told herself that was the alcohol talking.) A long, long beat passed. “Teach me.”

She might as well have asked him to steal the Trees, from the look on his face. Or hug poor Nolofinwë. Or speak to him. Or even stand on the same street as him. “T- _teach_ you?”

“Yes. Has being drunk damaged your hearing as well?”

“Are you sure?”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes. If we’re to use this stuff to gather data for your hypothesis that the Valar can actually get drunk, you’re going to need my help.”

He eyed her suspiciously.

Nerdanel grinned. "And it will be fun."

(It was, as it turned out, great fun. The probably-nonfatal explosions were well-worth it to see Finarfin’s eldest more intoxicated than they would likely ever see again and flirting shamelessly with anyone within his reach, while Finarfin himself sat with his wife (who was greatly enjoying the spectacle, by the look on her face) in the designated exasperated-parent corner, taking a long-suffering drink every time his son smiled charmingly, or his daughter started a fight, or his other sons fell off some surface. ~~Which was often.~~

 ~~Also, Valar could most definitely get drunk.~~ )

**Author's Note:**

> i regret nothing. 
> 
> as usual, thank you for reading! comments are appreciated, or come talk to me on tumblr @laurierliberal if you feel like it! (prompts are open!)


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